A Pink Unmentionable
by Squashes
Summary: Oliver Wood is positively shocked when a horrid bit of bright pink clothing ends up in his Quidditch quarters. He is even more horrified to find that it belongs to one of his Chasers. What's a Captain to do?


Seven drenched figures ambled toward the changing room, too wet to care anymore. The rain continued to fall heavily, silently mocking Oliver Wood.

He hung back, disappointed that practice was such a failure. He had only managed to coerce his team into two hours of drills before they threatened to remove his manhood with a dull axe. He had grudgingly complied, muttering all the way down from his Keeper's position.

Cancel practice…they were playing Hufflepuff first, and they couldn't afford to lose! That Diggory had put an excellent team together this year. And they had to get the Cup, they just had to!

He had never wanted the Quidditch Cup more in his Hogwarts career; this _was_ Oliver's last year to get it.

The others called him an obsessed, maniacal slave driver- oh yes, he had heard them, muttering behind his back as if he didn't have ears- but, really, what could extra practice hurt? Maybe a few sore bums and a cold the next day, but it was good to play in this dreadful weather; a match might very well occur in these conditions.

Ignoring the many glares he received from his fellow teammates, he grabbed a towel and rubbed his wet hair furiously. See if they complain when they were holding the shining Cup…

One by one, the rest of the team wandered back out into the storm, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet laughing at Katie Bell's imitation's of Lockhart ("the bloody peacock"). Fred and George Weasley were showing Harry Potter some new invention that would most likely be seen whizzing down the corridors during lessons tomorrow, causing havoc.

Finally, the room was quiet, the faint pattering of rain his only companion. Oliver sighed and stood up, grimacing at the mess the others had left. He began straightening benches and shutting lockers, feeling more like an exasperated mother of twins than any decent man should feel.

Sighing again, he bent down to pick up yet another crumpled piece of parchment when a flash of bright pink caught his eye.

Someone left out their robes…he thought absently. Wait…

Pink? In _his_ Quidditch quarters?

Positive that this was some sick joke the Weasleys had decided to play, he strode over to the offending object. As he neared, he saw that it appeared to be a limp pile of pink rags.

After a moment's hesitation (one never knew when it came to the twins' pranks), he picked it up…and froze.

Whatever it was, it was most definitely not a simple pile of rags. It looked very much like…like a bra.

Before Oliver could fully process that he was indeed holding a pink unmentionable in his hand, the changing room door swung open.

Katie Bell stopped, apparently as shocked as Oliver was to see her Quidditch Captain holding up a brightly colored undergarment. She looked at Oliver, then to the bra, back to Oliver.

A wicked smirk slid across her face, which only compounded Oliver's mortification.

_If only it had been something else…_he wished fervently_. Anything …anyone else but…_

"Ah, maybe this is a bad time…" she began, backing away towards the exit, grin still in place.

A small part of Oliver's brain finally broke free of its hold, and horrified beyond reason, he snapped into action. Dropping the cause of his complete embarrassment as if it were burning him, he commenced to babble hysterically, trying to explain that it didn't --it couldn't-- belong to him.

"Uh, no! No. I mean, I was cleaning," here he floundered, waving his arms about his head, trying to imitate the motions of cleaning and failing wretchedly, "and I thought that it was…you know…it's not mine! Not that I need one…and I don't want one either! I...I…yeah…"

_Stars, I am such an idiot, _he thought miserably, mentally shaking his head at his own foolishness.

"Oh. Right. Cleaning."

Katie nodded slowly, that infuriating grin still intact. "Well, um…"

She walked towards him, and Oliver saw amusement glinting in her eyes.

She thought this was funny? This was possibly the most humiliating situation he had ever been in…with the exception of getting caught by Fred and George polishing the Cup in the dormitory bathrooms…and they said he was bathing with it…how absurd…

But then Katie _would_ find this entertaining…

"I guess you won't be needing this then..." she stated, grabbing the colorful piece of frightening clothing from where he had hastily dropped it.

Oliver's brain stumbled, unable to comprehend…Katie? Bra? Quidditch? Bra? Katie? _Bra?_

"That's…why is it--" He stopped, and attempted to form a sentence again. "How did-what is that doing…you wear a- I mean…"

Katie stood there, her lips quirked up into a malevolent smile and her eyebrows raised.

"So it's yours?" he finished lamely, nodding to the offending bit of clothing.

Katie's grin widened. "Oh heavens, no. I have a scarlet one-- House colors, you know…"

Oliver banished the erotic thought of Katie Bell dancing wildly in the rain with her red brassiere on.

_Stop it!_, he berated himself fiercely. She was his Chaser, for Merlin's sake!

Deciding to proceed as if she hasn't mentioned anything about owning a crimson version of the lacy pile of humiliation, he asked, "Well, whose is it then?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he mentally hit himself with a Bludger over and over. Soon he would be envisioning all of his Chasers dancing seductively out in the pouring rain in their underclothes! Curse his male impulses…

"Uh, I mean-- never mind." Pretending not to notice Katie's smirk, he frantically thought of something else to say. "Urm…why is it here?"

A sudden thought hit him.

"You don't change…it, do you?" he asked in a strained voice.

Katie grinned. "No. Too risky with all these hormone-driven males around."

She paused and smiled knowledgably at Oliver, who gulped.

"Alicia just had it in her bag of necessities--" Oliver's eyes shot to the ceiling, secretly wondering why Alicia would need to carry a pink unmentionable to Quidditch practice, "--and it slipped out. She had to run to the Library before it closed and I offered to fetch it for her." Katie sighed dramatically. "I had hoped you hadn't yet cleaned that corner out, but…"

Oliver rubbed his face wearily and nodded.

Now there was Katie and Alicia dancing in the rain.

"Right. Just…don't bring it again. We have to concentrate on the game, you know…"

Katie laughed, and Oliver realized how pretty it sounded. In fact, he had never really noticed how pretty she was…but that could be the evil influences of the horrible _thing_ that was forever imprinted into his mind…

"Oh, yes. I know. Concentrate on the game. Well, as long as you don't imagine us doing the rain dance in our undergarments--" he gulped again "--while playing Hufflepuff, I think we'll manage."

Katie's face grew somber and she stepped closer to Oliver, so close he could clearly see the faint scar near her left eye from last year's Slytherin Beater, right when the score had been 0-60, in the opposing team's favor…it was just before Harry caught the Snitch…

"But since you're here, I need to speak to you…it's about Harry…"

Determined focus on anything but Katie's faint scent of orange blossoms, Oliver concentrated on the different moves Irish Keeper Barry Ryan used when faced with an assault from the opposing force…

"--we should do something, or at least keep some chocolate around in case it happens again-- are you even listening to me?"

Oliver nodded vigorously, shaking off thoughts of the Wronski Feint.

"Yes, of course. Feed him chocolate…urm, w-what exactly are you doing?"

Katie was leaning even closer, standing on her toes and reaching towards his face. He couldn't think, he couldn't even remember the plays he had meticulously planned out for the game against Slytherin…she smelled so good…why was she so close? His heartbeat raced to impossible heights as she moved closer…and closer…oh, Merlin, he needed a cold shower…

"You've got a twig" --she swatted at it-- "in your hair…There. Got it."

She leaned back, satisfied. She was still too close, but it was better. Much better.

"Well," he said briskly, moving away after an awkward pause, "I'd better finish cleaning --still have to write out different plays for the game-- and you'd better return _that_ to its owner."

Katie didn't move; in fact, she stared fixedly at Oliver with such intensity, he became immensely uncomfortable. He decided that now was a good time to for clean-up time.

"That's what you're always thinking about," she finally said.

Oliver's hand hovered over a discarded candy wrapper, and then he stood up, momentarily forgetting about tidying up.

He blinked in confusion. "What? Thinking about what?"

She exhaled in frustration, and grated out, "Quidditch! That's all you think about it! It's a great sport and all, but that's just it: it's a sport! "

Oliver's eyebrows went up in surprise. "I think about plenty of other things!" he began defensively. "I-I think about…assignments, and…and food --I like food…and it's more than a sport; it's the grandest activity ever thought up by wizardkind…nay, mankind!"

But what Katie had said was true. He did think about Quidditch. All the time. He compared Potions to being hit by a Bludger, he unconsciously put people in the position best for their stature…he did do a lot of reviewing old tactics, and writing up new ones, but that was what Quidditch Captains did, wasn't it?

Katie rolled her eyes.

"Merlin, you're thick." To his bewilderment, Katie marched up to him, her dark eyes flashing. "Don't you ever notice anything? You're just…just so--" she grunted in anger, clearly so distracted by her rage that she was unable to express herself properly.

Oliver felt his temper rising. He was thick? Who hadn't scored more than 40 points last year? Who never obeyed direct orders and always went on a limb? Who in no way executed his well thought-out plays? _He_ was the thick one!

"Now listen here, Bell. I notice plenty! How else could I be a Keeper, and a ruddy good one at that! No, it's--"

Oliver will never completely understand what happened next. First he was telling off his wayward Chaser, and then Katie was there, her arms wrapped around his head and her soft mouth squarely on top of his. To his surprise, he was responding.

Passionately.

In the future, Oliver blamed it on the weather.

"Funny stuff happens when it rains," he would say.

But for now, it wasn't the air he was thinking about, or even Quidditch. All his mind was processing was that Katie --pretty little fourth year Chaser Katie-- was kissing him, and he was enjoying it. A lot.

It was when she shoved him against the lockers and began tugging at his robes that he pulled away, panting.

"W-we shouldn't be…not right-- my Chaser…team Captain…" he gasped out, a sinking feeling permeating his chest even as he said the words.

Katie's eyes glinted dangerously, and jerking him down by the robes to her height, she growled, "Four in the morning practices aren't right, birdbrain. And I suppose it's a bit too late for shouldn'ts, isn't it? Now just shut up and kiss me."

If Oliver hadn't been enjoying himself so much, he probably would have the sense to be frightened. Instead, he smiled, and obeying the fiery Chaser of his, bent down to meet Katie's soft lips.

And for once in his life, Oliver Wood wasn't thinking about Quidditch.

.o&o.

Four Extendable Ears squirmed back outside, leading to four different ears, each attached to four smiling faces.

Fred and George Weasley grinned at each other, pleased that their latest invention was officially up and running.

"But you'd think these had a doxy in 'em- I mean, Oliver? Kissing a girl?" George asked incredulously.

Fred nodded. "And I always figured Wood to be dancing on the other side of the rainbow, if you catch my meaning..."

Angelina Johnson pulled the nude-colored string out from under her evenly plaited braids and grinned at her neighbor.

"Shut up, Fred. If that was the case, you'd been all over at him by this time…I've seen you peeking in the changing room! Don't think I haven't noticed."

Fred grew a bit pale and shook his furiously. "Angelina, darling, I promise, you're the only one that holds my heart…"

The group laughed quietly, and Angelina continued on as if she hadn't just shaken one of the infamous twins.

"I knew Katie could do it. That twig bit was brilliant; really, she's got spunk…"

A giggle escaped Alicia Spinnet. "Anyone who can tell Oliver Wood about owning a red bra has got have spunk!" She sighed happily. "I'm just glad it worked."

The twins gasped as one.

"Gred and I are offended that you even considered otherwise," one of them said in a hurt tone.

"Forge really feels that you now owe us a bit of Butterbeer," the other added hopefully.

"No, but seriously..." Angelina said, standing up to stretch. "I really thought Wood was brighter than that."

Alicia snorted in agreement. "I know! As if I would bring a lacy, pink unmentionable to Quidditch practice…"

.o&o.

As we all know, after only fifteen seconds of clicking and typing, you could make my day with a review. And I think that as human beings sharing this planet, we should all endeavor to make each other's days just a bit brighter…


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